


Pretty Blue Eyes

by ahopper84



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Drinking, Flirting, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slash, Slow Burn, Smoking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-09 11:48:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17406356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahopper84/pseuds/ahopper84
Summary: All the guys in the neighborhoodKeep saying that you sure look goodWith your blue eyesPretty blue eyes





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Third Queen-fic, hasn't been beta'ed or Brit-picked (if anyone wants to volunteer, just let me know). I can also be found on Tumblr - lettinggosthehardestpart. Hope you like it, this is gonna be a long one!

“There now, darling, isn’t that better?”

Roger turned away from his roommate, Freddie, to look in the mirror.

“Hm… Not bad, Freddie. Not bad at all.” Roger adjusted the sleeves of the silky, slightly sheer blouse. He was pretty sure it was technically a woman’s blouse, but with it hanging open and unbuttoned it wasn’t obvious. A gold medallion hung from his neck, settling mid-chest; a similar chain was wrapped through the belt-loops of his maroon velvet trousers. 

“You look stunning, Roger. Almost perfect.”

“Almost?” Roger looked over his shoulder at his roommate, who was rummaging through his nightstand drawer for something.

“Close your eyes, dear.”

“You’re not painting me up like a girl, are you?” 

“And what if I am? You’re already prettier than any girl I’ve ever seen.”

Roger felt himself blushing but rolled his eyes and stuck two fingers up, turning to face the mirror again.

“Oh don’t be such a prat, it was a compliment. Now be a good boy and close your eyes.”

Roger huffed, but did as he was told. If he’d learned anything in the few months he’d spent so far living with Freddie, it was that it was far easier to just go along with his whims rather than fight them. He tried not to flinch as he felt something against his eyelids.

“Hold still, please,” Freddie said, his voice whisper-quiet and close enough for his breath to tickle Roger’s cheek. “You really are quite beautiful, you know.”

“Am I?” Roger blinked his eyes open and saw Freddie looking at him with a coy smile. Before he could process that, though, Freddie had stepped behind Roger, hands on his shoulders. 

“See for yourself, darling.”

Roger appraised himself,and was surprisingly pleased. Freddie hadn’t done much, just lined his eyes with a deep brown kohl, but somehow it emphasized how round and doll-like his eyes were. He had to admit, he rather fancied it.

“Well done, Freddie. Serves me for doubting you.”

“They’re going to simply adore you, Rog. Now let’s go show you off.”

***

The pub was crowded as Freddie and Roger pushed their way to the bar. Roger ran his fingers through his hair and surveyed the sea of faces while Freddie ordered their first round. Music drifted over the crowd, some student band that was just this side of enjoyable. 

“Here you are, Rog,” Freddie said, handing over a glass filled to the brim. “To the prettiest boy in the room,” he said, holding up his own drink.

“Piss off,” Roger laughed, but clinked glasses nonetheless. 

“So dear, spy any contenders out there?” Freddie looked out across the room, waving to a few familiar faces.

“Depends what you’re looking for, I suppose.” 

“And just what exactly are you looking for?” Freddie asked, turning a curious eye to his blond friend.

“Who says I’m looking for anything in particular?” Roger replied with a shrug, but he knew Freddie wasn’t convinced. “I’ll know ‘em when I see ‘em.”

“Right,” Freddie said, drawing out the word. “Well, you know I’m all for keeping an open mind.” He threw Roger a wink, and the younger man rolled his eyes.

For a while they just stood at the bar and drank. Eventually, Freddie insisted on giving the band a closer look, but Roger preferred to stay back and work on round two. H’d just finished his third as his roommate stumbled back, looking a bit flushed.

“You alright mate?” he asked, and Freddie just laughed.

“More than alright, darling. “I’ve just come to check on you. Please tell me you’re not planning on holding up the bar all evening.”

“Not planning on it.”

“Roger, you have simply got to expand your horizons. Come on, dance with me.”

“You’re joking, right?” Roger looked at his friend, one eyebrow cocked. “You don’t have to pity me, you know. I can find my own fun. As can you, from the looks of it,” Roger added, and poked at a red spot on Freddie’s neck.

“You’re right, I can. And right now, I’m exactly where I want to be. And if you are too, well then… There we are.” Freddie sipped his beer and winked at Roger.

Roger stared at his friend for a moment; he still didn’t entirely understand why he’d taken such an interest in him, but he was glad to have him. He wasn’t exactly a shy person, but he hadn’t made any real lasting friendships since coming to London for school. As for girls, he’d managed to have his fun here and there, but nothing that would make him want to go back for seconds. And, if he was perfectly truthful, there was the occasional bloke that turned his head, although he didn’t dare act on it.

Freddie wasn’t exactly excluded from that. It wasn’t that Roger fancied him exactly, but there’d been a few nights when they’d stumbled home from the pub, piss-drunk and falling over each other, when things had almost happened. He wondered if tonight would be one of those nights, and if one of them would finally have the balls to do something about it.

***

“And god save the Queen!” Freddie cackled and leaned against Roger as they trudged up the steps to their flat.They laughed and shushed each other. Roger fell to the side and leaned back against the wall as Freddie dug through his pockets for his keys.

“Why Roger, you look positively sozzled,” Freddie said with a giggle as he finally got the door open. Roger just laughed and flipped him off, following him into the flat.

“Yeah, and what does that make you?” 

“Come to bed, darling.” Freddie draped an arm over Roger’s shoulders, and Roger realized far too slowly that he was being led not to his bedroom, but his friend’s. He didn’t think anything of it, though; they’d fallen asleep next to each other plenty of times before. But when they collapsed to the mattress in a tangle of limbs, both panting and grinning with their faces far too close, Roger thought maybe this time would be different.

“You truly are beautiful, you know,” Freddie said quietly.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Roger replied. He licked his lips in anticipation, and watched his friend’s eyes follow the movement. He felt suddenly nervous, unsure whether to trust his senses. But when Freddie leaned over and planted a feather-light kiss to his lips, he smiled.

No more words were spoken between the two. They kissed slowly, tentatively at first, testing the waters. Roger wasn’t sure if Freddie had ever kissed a boy before, but he knew he hadn’t. It wasn’t that different from kissing a girl, he discovered, and Freddie was as willing and capable a partner as he’d had. Hands roamed to tangle in hair or to grip at clothing, but nothing further; Roger wasn’t ready for more than that yet, and he was grateful that Freddie either felt the same, or was understanding enough not to push.

Roger woke up sometime in the late morning, judging by the sun. His back was pressed to Freddie’s chest, and Freddie’s arm was around his waist. Roger smiled and leaned his head back, feeling his friend pull him tighter. He turned over and met Freddie’s sleepy eyes; his friend looked nervous at first, until Roger pressed a shy kiss to the corner of his lips.

“No hard feelings, then?” Freddie said quietly, and Roger snorted.

“Well it is morning, so…”

The two men laughed and pulled apart to stretch. Roger sat up and ran a hand through his tangled locks, then smiled down at his friend.

“Guess things got a bit wild last night, eh?”

“Not too wild for the great Roger Taylor, I hope?” Freddie’s comment sounded at ease, but Roger could hear the tiniest hint of nerve.

“Nah, just a bit of fun. No lasting damage.”

“Good. Because we’re going out again tonight, of course! Now get out, I need my beauty sleep and you’ve got class.”

Roger laughed and shook his head. Freddie was already back to sleep, snoring lightly as he made his way back to his own room. He was glad it had happened, but he was glad neither one of them was taking it too seriously, either. They were still mates, nothing more, nothing less. Just friends that might have an occasional snog, and Roger wasn’t about to complain about that.


	2. Chapter 2

“So ladies, you hitting the pubs tonight?” Roger grinned as he leaned against the wall, eyeing the two girls in front of him. They looked at each other and giggled behind their hands.

“You asking both of us out, Roger?” one of them teased.

“More’s the merrier, innit?” he replied, wiggling his eyebrows at them.

“We might be around,” the other girl spoke up, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. 

“Well I certainly hope so.” He winked at the one on the left, who turned a shade pink and buried her nose in the stack of books she carried. Out of the corner of his eye, Roger saw Freddie leaving the nearby classroom.

“Well, sadly I’ve got to run, but I’ll see you both later, yeah?” He licked his lips and nodded to both girls, who once again devolved into a fit of giggles, before ducking around them.

“Ah, there’s our resident playboy,” Freddie said when he spotted his blonde friend. “Getting into trouble already? It’s not even sundown.”

“Never to early to line up my evening. What do you think? I might be inclined to share if you ask nice enough,” Roger laughed.

“I don’t need your hand-me-downs, Roger, but I appreciate the offer nonetheless. Anyway, weren’t you supposed to be in a lecture?”

“Got bored,” Roger said with a shrug. “I’ll catch up next class,” he added at his friend’s disapproving look. The two of them headed towards the exit, but Freddie paused to look at the bulletin board.

“I wonder who’s playing the Greyhound this weekend,” he mused. Roger scanned the multi-colored papers, not looking for anything in particular, when one caught his eye.

“What’s this?” he said, tilting his head and looking closer.

“Find something interesting?” Freddie asked.

“Maybe… These guys are looking for a drummer for a new band.”

“Oh really! Thinking of trying out?”

“Maybe… I don’t think my other band’s lasting much longer. Hell, we haven’t had a gig in nearly a month.”

“You really should then, you’re so talented. You deserve to be on stage, where everyone can see you.”

Roger smirked at his friend; Freddie had dreams of greatness, not just for himself but for everyone around him as well. His ambition was infectious, and Roger knew that even if he never made it anywhere, Freddie certainly would.

“I’ll think about it. Anyway, let’s hurry up and get back to the flat. I want to clean up before we hit the pubs.”

“Yes of course, we need to make you presentable for your adoring fans.”

***

The next morning, Roger awoke to find himself sandwiched between two bodies. He grinned and stretched his arms, feeling his spine pop. He’d caught up with the two girls from school, and the three of them had enjoyed a wild night of drinks, followed by a whole other variety of partying back at Roger’s flat. He could barely remember their names - Jessica and Jennifer, maybe - but they’d had quite a time tangled up in each other.

Carefully, Roger extracted himself from the pile of limbs; after a quick piss he padded out to the kitchen in search of coffee. He was only mildly surprised to see Freddie already up, pouring them each a mug. 

“So, sleeping beauty finally awakes. At least one of us slept. Honestly, darling, I almost thought you three would carry on til dawn.”

“Jealous?” Roger chuckled, sipping his coffee. He rocked his head back and forth, feeling his neck pop. “You got lectures today?”

“Sadly, yes. You?”

“Nah. Thinking of going to that audition, though.”

“You really must. If you don’t I won’t let you hear the end of it.”

“Yeah, I don’t doubt that…” Roger smiled and sipped his drink, the cobwebs clearing from his mind. He really did miss drumming regularly, and to be in a proper band again would be fun. “I’ll have to drag my kit over there; I can’t stand playing one that’s not mine. Help me load it before you go?”

“I suppose,” Freddie sighed with a long-suffering roll of his eyes, but he smiled. “You’d better wake your lovelies before they think you’ve abandoned them.

It was Roger’s turn to roll his eyes, but he did as he was told. The two were already starting to stir when he got back to the bedroom, and pulled him down for another round. He knew Freddie was waiting for him, but it was so hard to resist not one, but two pairs of hands, two mouths, two voices sighing and moaning his name. It was a hell of an ego boost, and who could really blame him for giving the pair what they wanted?

An hour later he finally emerged from his room with the girls in tow, looking thoroughly fucked but at least properly dressed. He walked them to the door and accepted a kiss from each before sending them on their way. Freddie was standing in his bedroom doorway, arms crossed and face contorted in an expression halfway between amusement and annoyance. Roger tossed him a sheepish smirk and a shrug.

“You’re hopeless, you know that, simply hopeless.”

“You’re the one that wanted me to have fun,” Roger shot back, heading into the small living area where his drum kit was set up.

“Maybe so, but I didn’t think you would take to it quite so… voraciously.”

Roger laughed as he started breaking down his drum kit. Freddie wasn’t exactly wrong. Roger was quickly gaining a reputation, rarely going home alone, and even more rarely seen with the same girl more than once. He was having fun, and didn’t see any reason not to enjoy every opportunity that presented itself. Especially when those opportunities came with warm, soft bodies willing to cater to his every desire. It was positively hedonistic, and he was loving every moment.

***

Roger knocked on the half-open door to the club room and poked his head in.

“Come on in,” a voice called, and Roger stepped in fully. A skinny brunette with a bass strapped around his neck turned to face him. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, I’m here for the band try-outs?”

“Oh yeah, of course, come on in. Do you have your own kit? I’m Tim, by the way, Tim Staffell.” The bassist reached a hand out, and Roger gave it a shake. 

“Roger, and yeah, my kit’s in my van. Should I go get it, then?”

“Yeah, sure. Hey, Bri!” Tim said, looking at someone behind Roger. “That’s Brian, the guitarist. We’ve got a hopeful here, Bri.”

Roger turned around, and was greeted by an impossibly tall bloke with a head of dark curls. 

“Afternoon there, Roger. Need a hand with your set?”

“Ah, sure, if you wouldn’t mind. I’m just parked out the side here.” Roger led the way out to his van, the much taller gentleman following behind.

“So, you go to school here?” Brian asked as they began carting the various pieces inside.

“No, I’m actually over at the medical school. How about you two?”

“Well I do, but Tim’s over at Ealing. Medical school, eh? Gonna become a doctor?”

“Uh, not quite…” Roger sighed. “Dentistry.”

“Oh. Well. That’s… interesting.” 

Roger hated the condescending tone, more because he agreed with. It hadn’t been his idea at all; his parents had wanted him to study something useful, something with job security.

“Thinking of changing to biology.”

“Now that’s something,” Brian said, his smiling returning. “I’m in the Sciences too. Astrophysics.”

Roger looked at him with surprise. It certainly sounded impressive, even if Roger didn’t exactly know what it meant. 

“That’s the last of it,” he said as they finished hauling in his gear. “Give me just a bit to get set up.”

“Take your time, mate,” Tim said, plucking a string. Roger was vaguely aware of Brian watching him as he set everything up the way he liked it. Once everything was in place, he started the work of tuning; it wasn’t something he’d had to do in a while, but moving always threw everything off enough for him to notice.

“What are you doing?” Brian asked, his tone curious.

“Tuning,” Roger replied without turning around. He heard Brian make a noise of confusion, and looked over his shoulder.

“Tuning… drums? I thought you just, you know… hit them?”

Roger cocked an eyebrow and stared at him for a moment, then chuckled.

“Yeah, you have to tune them. Some folks might not bother, but I can’t stand having mine be off.”

“Hm. Learn something new every day, I suppose,” Brian muttered with a smirk. Roger just shook his head and muttered ‘guitarists’ under his breath, then went back to work.

He was trying to focus on the task at hand, but it was easy enough to move on auto-pilot. Tim and Brian both seemed nice enough, and both were easy on the eyes; if he’d been forced to choose, he’d say he found Brian the more attractive one. Not that he was there for that, of course.

Finally he had everything exactly how he liked it, and sat down behind his set. 

“So, should I just… play? Is there anything you want to hear?”

“Just show us what you’ve got,” Tim said, leaning back on his heels and crossing his arms. Roger looked at him, and at Brian, rolled his shoulders, and let out a breath.

He launched into a solo, starting out simply and building from there. He didn’t look up from his drums, just focused on the beat in his head, trying to keep with the tempo he’d originally set. He didn’t know how much they wanted, so he just let himself go. It’d been a bit since he’d last practiced, and he wished he’d brushed up that morning. If he hadn’t been so damn distracted by those girls…

He let the rhythm and tempo crescendo finally, building to a wild pace. A light sheen of sweat had broken out on his forehead and neck, and when he finally hit the last crashing beat on his cymbals, he sat back, panting. He finally looked up, and while Tim looked mildly impressed, Brian was staring slack-jawed.

“That was bloody brilliant,” the taller man said, and Roger bit the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning.

“Not bad,” Tim spoke up. “Quite good, actually. Can you sing?”

Roger swallowed and took a breath, then launched into the first few lines of a Beatles song. Tim and Brian looked at each other, then back to Roger, joining in on the harmonies. 

“Brilliant,” Brian said again, quietly, and Roger felt his cheeks flushing from more than just exertion.

“Right, well,” Tim said, looking back and forth between the two of them. “Mind if we talk it over, Roger?”

“Yeah, of course.” Roger twirled a drumstick, catching the way Brian watched the motion before turning away. The two stepped to the other side of the room, speaking in hushed tones that Roger tried not to overhear. His knee bounced as he thought about how he’d done, picking out bits he could’ve done better.

“Alright Roger,” Tim said, coming back over. “We practice at Brian’s. You free to come round tomorrow, give it a go? Say around noon?”

“Yeah, sounds good. Thanks, mate.” Roger smiled and gave his sticks another twirl, trying not to let his excitement show.

“Just don’t blow us off, and I think we’ll do fine. I’m off, but I’ll see you two tomorrow.” Tim waved to both other guys and turned to pack his bass. 

“I’ll give you a hand breaking down, if you’d like,” Brian offered.

“It’s alright, you already helped before.” Roger stood and started disassembling his kit, but the taller man joined him.

“It’s no trouble. I think we’re gonna be a good fit, you know. You’ve got talent, and I’ve got a really good feeling about us.”

“Yeah?” Roger said, smiling at his new band mate. “Me too.”


End file.
